Worm Fishing

If I said that door led to John Malkovich's head, you wouldn't believe me, because there's already been a film which uses a very similar idea. If I said that it led to the mind of former Manchester United and Ireland full-back Dennis Irwin, why would you doubt it? There's never been a film called Being Dennis Irwin. And as long as I keep this door to myself, there never will.

I stopped off at John's and caught him smoking a pen like a cigar. We've all done it. I informed him of my intentions to seek out worms and if I didn't to return I wanted him to never stop looking for me.

There were no worms to be had in John's room, the temperature was all wrong, there was too much sunlight and not enough soil. I ventured outside and saw a car with an open door.

Christ! They're all doing it. It's only a matter of time before someone says "Yeah, but I was leaving my door open before it was cool".

Reports that this is the infamous bridge which inspired the RHCP song "Under the Bridge" are frankly ridiculous.

Classic Ali; walking forwards, inhaling inwards.

People have criticised trees for struggling to become relevant in the 21st century, but say what you will, you'll never get an i-pod or hoverboard growing bigger than a house.

I was told that this was done by pigeons. I know pigeons, and they wouldn't do something like this.

My reflection, a sort of mirror image of myself.

That reminds me, once I finish my exams I should watch all three Lord of the Rings films in one sitting. Not because I want to, just because I can.

Rachel came to the door. Like most normal human beings she was not expecting to be photographed as she opened the door. It had an effect upon her face.

She claimed that she hadn't had a shower yet. I was more than happy to believe her, but she lifted her arms and demanded that I used my powerful sense of smell to confirm it.

Into the wilderness we went. I felt like just like Howard Carter, the only Egyptologist I know. But instead of exploring Egypt, I was exploring a Cardiff Garden.

Where to dig? Where to dig? Dig to where?

Now there was a place to dig if I ever did see one.

Maybe in your fancy pants army they would use a shovel, trowel or something else ending with 'el', but out here in the gritty urban real world we use sticks.

The best way to find the worms would be to go all Honey, I done Shrunk the Kids. Of course it wouldn't, those worms would eat us alive.

Worm ahoy!

First blood. He may not look like much, but he put up one hell of a fight.

Rachel adopted a traditional oriental style of worm fishing. A technique not disimilar to that of former world number one Xu "The Fish" Zang.

I'm not sure what the law has to say about worms. Who owns them? Maybe the Queen, like she does with all the swans. Whatever the case, I'm sure she'll be banging on my door trying to trade some of her swans for some of my worms once I've trained them up real nice.

A knee.

A worm, lol.

People say that worm fishing is a barbaric sport. They say it's un-natural. Then how can they explain this? A machine of nature designed specifically for the fishing of worms; a blunt end for digging and a sticky stick for picking.

What courage! What spirit! I haven't seen so much charisma in a worm since the great Donald "The Worm" The Worm. I name thee Donald in his honour.

It was time to pull out the secret weapon; moisture. Those bastard worms love the moisture. They can't get enough of the stuff.

Rachel began to assemble the worm tank, not a tank that fires worms, more of an aquarium without the aqua. And maybe the rium. I don't know, I'm not french.

From the age of one all you hear is "Don't put snails in a bowl with worms". If it's not being drilled into you in school, it's being burnt onto your arm by your junkie mother, but I'm just one man, a simple and petty man.

Nothing happened, so I let them free. I may be just one man, but I'm not a monster of a man.


They didn't look like they were going to fight; fight in the way that god intended. It was as if god, or some higher being, took control of my arm and made me give mother nature a helping hand.


Boo. Bloody snails.

They tried to run away, but it was going to take more than brute speed for those snaily bastards to get out of my reach.

Once again god took control of my arm. I could feel his words flowing through my body, I could feel them in my soul. "Son, if the snails aint gonna fight like what I done made'em for, then ya gotta least make'em kiss, uh huh".

Now we were getting somewhere.

Romance was in the air. It was so thick that it made my eyes sting.

Dirty buggers.

Bloody showoffs.

Alas, he fell and broke his neck. That's the price you pay for showing off.

It was time to give up on the snails. We had lost our way. Our main objective was the worms and we should't have lost sight of that. Scoop, scoop the mud.

Grade A 100% pure Colombian cocaine, ladies and gentlemen... Disco shit... Pure as the driven snow. Nothing but the best for my worms.

You've got to push the soil down. It's the first rule of worm keeping. If you don't know why, you probably wouldn't understand if I told you.

Another scoop of mud, my dear? Sure, why not? I love mud.

Like a delicious cake. In the coming months my mind will play tricks on me. "Eat the cake" it will say, but I must never forget that it's just mud and worms.

I can't remember what I was going to say about this picture. It might come back to me.

Shit! We've run out of soil. No need to panic, there's lots of soil in the soil.

Mmmm, cake. Must eat cake.

The time came for the worms to enter their new home. In many ways this plastic box of mud is just like the bottled city of Kandor, but with more worms.

Our mission was complete. We patiently sat, waiting, dreaming and admiring.

Watching a box filled with mud and worms was a lot less exciting than I imagined, and so, I drew a penis on the wall.

This was the only big fat worm that was found. Big fat worms were ten a penny when I was a boy. Even though I'm still a boy, if only in the medical sense.

I went back to watching, waiting, wondering. When were they going to fight? Would they ever fight? I may have greatly over-estimated the power of worms.

There's only so long that you can stare at a bunch of worms before the calls of the beautiful people lure you back to the tv.

Rachel set about making a smoothie. In a few years time, when people start dropping dead from drinking smoothies, the government will finally step forward and say "Chin was right, it wasn't natural to have so much fruit in such a condensed space. It just wasn't safe to consume your five a day in one go. It goes against everything religion has ever taught us, it goes against science, it goes against common sense. How could we have been so stupid? Why didn't we listen?" But by then it will be too late.

If this was Cribs this fridge would be full of Scarface dvds.

Ha, Joey.

My job was done. I'd achieved everything I set out to do on this day, except for post a cheque, buy some cakes and revise for my exams.


  1. I enjoyed reading/viewing this entry =)

  2. yeah! way to be! reminded me of my own awesome life, but with better captions and a little bit more excitement (think of the snails and open car doors). bravo.